These past few days, I have been oddly fascinated by a video you might have seen. It shows a young woman in exercise clothes performing a fitness/dance routine over somewhat tinny music while in the immediate background a convoy of military vehicles moves towards the parliament of the country this all happened in: Myanmar. The country’s military had lost recent elections and had decided that instead of ruling in the background, it would now have to re-establish the military dictatorship that had wrecked the country for so many years.
When I first encountered somewhere on Twitter, I watched it and was immediately engrossed (this tweet is not where I originally found it, but it will allow you to watch). Still, I have been online for too long to believe everything I see. In fact, for most things I find I try to find at least one other (independent) source or confirmation. A day later, an article appeared in The Washington Post. The video was real — it had not been green screened. The article gave the young woman’s name as Khing Hnin Wai and said that she was a fitness instructor who had been sharing her videos on Facebook for a while now.
Unlike many other people, I don’t think that selfies or influencers are a sure sign of a general degeneration of either photographic culture or morals (or both). They simply have become a part of our visual culture. Much like pretty much any other part, they might become problematic given the right circumstances. That said, it might be worthwhile to remember that the history of photography is filled with disgusting crap (just look at, for example, how the visual culture around fashion has contributed to all kinds of problems). So it feels more than just a little bit disingenuous to complain about selfies or influencers.
Regardless of whether you agree with me on selfies and influencers, you will have to admit that they can make for arresting visuals, especially when events in the background photo- or videobomb someone going about whatever it is they do. People usually comment on how oblivious influencers are: how could they not see this, how could they do that, why do they do that?
I’m not sure that having a bunch of mostly older viewers judging younger people is such a good idea. More often than not, it’s such a lazy take: All you can think of is to point out how stupid or vapid people much younger than you are? (How is that itself not simply stupid or vapid?) Can you imagine growing up at a time when neoliberal capitalism has gone completely haywire: do you think you’d not be taking selfies or be an influencer? Another take centres on pictures or videos being made in inappropriate situations or locations. Seriously, though, have you never committed a faux pas of any sort? For sure, most of us would rather not find ourselves in such a situation. But in a world filled with arcane and sometimes arbitrary rules, it’s not that difficult to screw up.
Beyond lazy takes, I think there is a lesson provided by that video from Myanmar. Most of us simply go about daily life unaware of whatever historic event might be happening around us. We all make decisions about which events or things we care about, possibly to become active in some sense, while ignoring all others: It’s impossible to become involved in each and every important cause. There is an element of consolation to the fact that life will go on for most people, regardless of whatever is happening at any given moment. This realisation does not imply that one ought to be indifferent to all events — on the contrary. But meaningful action — provided it’s possible — usually has to arise out of a position in which one has the (physical and spiritual) means to do so.
What exactly should Khing Hnin Wai have done? To begin with, she doesn’t have eyes in the back of her head, so it was impossible for her to see what happened behind her. Furthermore, her workout routine looks pretty vigorous (I don’t want to entertain the thought of doing it myself). So how on earth would it have been possible for her to pay attention to something else? Also, watching the video I found myself wondering whether I would have known what was going on. If you hadn’t been told what you were looking at in the video would you have thought “Oh, yeah, obviously a coup”?
Watching the video I found myself wondering what exactly I was responding to. I will admit that my own instinct to be amazed of the dancer not realising what was going on was strong — trained by years and years of being exposed to an online culture that has increasingly become centred on making fun of people. I found myself being somewhat repulsed by that instinct. It didn’t and still doesn’t feel right to me.
On the other hand, if the internet has done one thing (besides the grooming of what we could call a culture centred on at least some form of constant low-level bullying), it’s to have levelled the playing field where everything, whether it’s the most innocent and mundane stuff or the most disgusting crap, is equally accessible, is being spread equally. Somewhere on that spectrum, from two very different points, the Myanmar coup and fitness instructor Khing Hnin Wai converged in a single video. That’s pretty amazing: it’s an almost Dadaesque confluence of such different things.
For a short while, I thought this would merely be one more case of, to use Neil Postman’s phrase, us amusing ourselves to death. It could be — but only if we decide that that’s the way to go. I would argue that after we’ve looked at the video, we can decide what we’ll make of it. We could laugh, we could be amazed, we could be sad… There are so many options.
What if we were to decide to not embrace just one reaction but live with the contradiction of a number of conflicting ones? After all, that was one of the ideas of Dada: to throw a lot of seemingly incompatible things together, to awaken an audience out of its slumber. I have the feeling we could use such a wake-up call. Obviously, I don’t know where it would leave us. But this approach might open up a possible way towards a different understanding of the world as presented in this current visual culture, where a strange juxtaposition of seemingly irreconcilable elements always is just one photograph or one video away.
Well, anyway, it’s snowing again. Much like most people, I’m over a lot of things at this stage in the pandemic. But I also know that we all still have to buckle down quite a bit longer. Some days are harder than others, aren’t they?
As always thank you for reading!
— Jörg
I’m a freelance writer, photographer, and educator currently living and working in the US.
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